


Made To Be

by twentyseven



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-29
Updated: 2013-01-29
Packaged: 2017-11-27 09:09:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/660245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twentyseven/pseuds/twentyseven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall’s seventeen and feeling a bit invisible. With busy lawyer parents and a best friend whose mind is halfway across the world, he’s sick of feeling alone. Zayn’s twenty and feeling a bit bitter. He works two jobs to get by and has this self-imposed loneliness he’s starting to regret. Then he meets Niall and things start looking up for the both of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Made To Be

The temperatures had been in record highs all week with no signs of stopping. It was only seven in the morning and already it was at eighty five degrees in the suburbs of London. It was the kind of hot that one could see; the haze thick and distorted coming from the sweltering asphalt. It would be one of those desolate days where no one would be outside unless they had to be; the news warning everyone the heat would only increase as the day went on. 

  
Inside his bedroom on the third floor of the home he lived in with his parents, Niall Horan was rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he threw the covers from his overheated body, reveling in the simple pleasure of the breeze from his ceiling fan hitting his warm skin. The sun was beating through the window just above his bed, blaring as it rose, and he cursed himself for not shutting the blinds before he’d gone to bed, only hours before.  
  


The seventeen year old had been up late studying for his last day of exams, glad to be finishing out his first year in sixth form, but as he stumbled from his bed, he wasn’t sure how good his studying would do when he could barely keep his eyes open or form a coherent thought.

  
He shuffled into the hallway, too hot to dress in more than his boxers, and made his way to the kitchen on the first floor. His mother and father were pouring coffee in to-go cups, and when he entered, they both turned to shoot him a smile.

  
“Morning,” his mother cooed, sliding up alongside him to give his cheek a kiss. “Good luck on your exams, honey. Me and your father have to head to the office,” she told him, referring to where they worked as partners at  _Payne and Horan Law Firm_. She ran a hand over his no doubt unruly head of blond hair, trying to get it to stick down, even though she never could.

  
Niall nodded as his father came up to him next, a grin on his face, before giving his arm a soft touch, acting as the reassuring words he couldn’t say and had never been able to. Niall rolled his eyes, but shot his dad a smile.

  
By the time he’d eaten a small breakfast, grabbed his own cup of coffee, and retreated back to the third floor to dress himself in his school’s uniform, the temperature was at ninety degrees according to the ticker that ran across BBC’s morning news. Niall was wishing he could wear anything other than the black trousers and dark blue dress shirt his private school required, but he only had to remind himself he’d be free for the summer after just one more exam, and he was suddenly awake and ready to go.

  
His blue eyes glanced over his appearance as he ran a hand through his messy blond hair, it sticking up in all directions despite his mother trying to tame it. He swiped his tongue over the braces covering his teeth and grimaced at the soreness with a sigh, counting down the days until he got them off as he looked in the mirror on the back of his bedroom door.

_  
_Good enough for the last day__ , he decided, just as he heard the familiar sound of his best friend’s car horn.

  
Liam Payne was a year older than Niall and the son of the third partner in the law office along with Niall’s parents. Upon Niall’s move from Ireland four years before, the boys had been thrust together by their lawyer parents, and luckily, they had hit it off. They’d spent the whole summer together before Niall’s ninth year and Liam’s tenth, and having a friend who knew the school was a blessing to the quiet blonde.

  
Now though, as Niall was completing year twelve and Liam was completing sixth form altogether, a move onto a university was imminent. Niall frowned at the thought of the boy leaving not only London but England as well. New York City had been on Liam’s mind for the past few years, his desire to attend university there only deepening when his girlfriend moved there to attend Julliard and study dance the year before.

  
Despite his happiness for his best friend, Niall couldn’t help but feeling like he was being left behind.

  
As they climbed from the car, Niall paused to close his eyes for a few moments, a long yawn escaping past his lips as he started to make his way toward the school. “Jesus, Ni, just how late were you up studying?” Liam asked, his brown eyes full of concern. Niall just shook his head and mumbled about it being ‘too late’ and headed into the school.

  
Luckily, he knew he’d done well the second he reached the last question, not too quickly that he’d breezed through it almost  _too easily_ but not slow enough that he was struggling. His teacher bid him a nice summer with a warm smile as he left the class and found Liam waiting for him, a bored look on his face that silently asked ‘what took so long?’ Niall wasn’t surprised that the older boy finished his last exam with an astounding speed and probably a nearly perfect score.

  
When Liam dropped Niall off back at his house after they grabbed a quick lunch, Niall was not surprised to find a van from the pool cleaning company they used parked in along their curb. The filter had broken over the weekend previous, and his dad had finally gotten around to calling for a repair only the day before. He felt bad for the guy he knew to be quite a bit older than his dad who came to clean regularly, being out in the heat. As Niall dropped his backpack in the hall, he immediately ambled into the kitchen and looked out of the window and into the back garden. To make sure the guy hadn’t had a heat stroke, or something.

  
Instead, a gasp escaped his mouth as he looked out toward the pool. The usual guy, whose name Niall didn’t remember—and that set a guilty feeling low in his stomach— wasn’t there. In his place, hunched over the edge of the pool, was a boy Niall guessed couldn’t be much older than him. In dirty jeans, work boots, and only a white tank (that was so drenched in sweat it was see-through) on his upper half, the boy’s tan skin and lean muscles were all Niall saw. He grabbed a wrench from his tool box and brought it toward the filter, cranking it hard and making Niall’s eyes zero in on the boy’s arm muscles as they moved and bulged out with his movement.

_  
_Holy fuck__ , Niall thought, his eyes wide as he felt a heat move up his to cheeks from his neck that was definitely not caused by the temperature outside. In fact, the house was cold and Niall’s fingers were already icy even though he’d only been home a few minutes. He watched as the boy stood up straight, pulled his snapback from his head and ran a hand through his dark hair, wet with sweat. The same hand ran across the boy’s forehead before putting his hat back on, this time backwards. Again, he hunched down and over the side of the pool.

  
With a few steps backward, Niall reached the kitchen sink, almost in a daze at the sight just outside the window. Shaking his head, he reached into the cupboard and pulled out a tall glass and filled it to the rim with ice and water, gulping down half of it before he could take another breath.

  
With his suddenly dry throat quenched and his gaze taken off the tan god that was in his garden, Niall let the feeling of sympathy sink back into his stomach. The temperature was still at ninety degrees with no breeze to cool one off or shade in their garden to offer solace, and the boy was still outside. Without much thought, he grabbed another glass and filled it with ice and water before stepping back out into the heat, his body wracked with nervousness.

  
In his seventeen years, most of which Niall had always known he was gay, he’d never been so floored by another guy before like he was in that moment. As he stepped closer to the object of his instant infatuation he let his blue eyes, which he was sure were impossibly wide, roam over more of the worker’s form. The first thing he noticed was a peace sign tattoo and multiple others on a defined forearm, and then a yin-yang on the opposite outer wrist, and finally as the boy sensed someone’s presence and turned to Niall, Arabic writing on his chest and collarbone, the dark ink peeking through the wet tank top.

  
It took a minute for Niall to realize he’d been spotted and was being expected to say something. As he froze and stared, the dark boy let a small smile grace his lips. 

  
“I’m going to need to a buy a new part,” he started to explain, a northern English accent hitting Niall’s ears as he struggled to listen rather than just watch the boy’s plump lips as they moved. “This one,” he continued, holding a piece of the filter Niall wouldn’t have recognized from a car part.

  
He locked his eyes with Niall’s, and the blonde had to fight back another gasp, reminding himself he was not tucked safely behind the kitchen window. They were dark and brown, but flecked with green and gold as the sun hit them, giving them an almost glowing appearance as he stood silently, his thick and dark eyebrows raised high toward the rim of his hat. He seemed to realize Niall wasn’t going to respond, so he spoke again.

  
“It’s all rusted. I’ll get one today and come back tomorrow, but I still got a little left I can do today.”

  
Niall felt himself nodding, his mouth still slightly agape and his eyes wide. “Okay,” he finally managed to breathe out, feeling stupider by the second as the boy only quirked a small smile. “Oh! Uh, I brought you some water…” he trailed off, suddenly thrusting the glass into the boy’s hand. His face fell in mortification as he boy grabbed the glass but glanced toward his feet. Niall followed his gaze to the large plastic bottle still half filled with ice and water.

_  
_And now I want to die__ , he thought.

  
“Thanks,” the boy said, though, raising the glass to his lips and immediately sucking down a good amount.

  
Saying nothing but turning on his heel, Niall walked quickly back into the house and didn’t stop until he reached his room. He flopped on his bed and buried his head in his pillows in embarrassment, not moving until he heard the van pull away forty five minutes later.

  
When he finally emerged from his self-imposed exile and went to the back garden, the glass he’d given the boy was empty and sitting on the patio table, a slip of paper held under it with a scribbled and messy  _thank you_ written on it.

  
—

  
The first day of summer vacation always began with a momentary panic as Niall woke up when his body told him to rather than his alarm. As he stretched and began to open his eyes, without fail the first thing he looked at was the clock on his bedside table, and he would shoot up into a sitting position instantly as he took in the late hour.  _Shitshitshit late for class_ , he’d always think before his memory would slap him in the face, reminding him he had absolutely nowhere to be.

  
He would throw himself back into bed and snooze for another few hours until the morning passed completely and the day was well into the afternoon, because damn it, he deserved it after a long school year during which he kept his grades to As and Bs. The first day, he could sleep away without guilt.

  
But this year, his memory also slapped with in the face with the realization that his pool boy—oh, had he really just thought of him as  _his_ pool boy?—was coming back to finish the work he’d started the day before. Climbing from his bed, he nearly launched himself to his window that overlooked the front garden, instantly smiling as he saw the familiar navy blue van with the pool company’s logo painted on the side.

  
Throwing on a pair of shorts and a tee shirt, Niall ran from his room and took the two flights of stairs to the ground level three at a time, almost tripping over himself in the process. He was halfway to the kitchen when his memory slapped him again, this time remembering the absolute  _idiot_ he had made out of himself the day before. Deciding to forget any and all interaction he’d been planning as he ran down from his room, he slowly crept into the kitchen to get a good gander instead, not keen on embarrassing himself even further.

  
On the counter, Niall saw a check his dad had written out, already signed and dated and ready for whatever amount of money the repair would cost. Closing his eyes and letting out a sigh, the Irish boy prepared himself for the inevitable interaction with the beautiful boy who was already hard at work in the back garden.

  
Niall ate a small bowl of cereal and tried to ignore the tantalizing sight outside, the pool boy dressed the same and somehow even more golden and glistening than he had been the day before. Lost in the focus of trying  _not_ to look, Niall failed to notice the boy had left his post and walked toward the house.

  
Nearly jumping out of his skin at the sound a gruff “hey” coming from back door, Niall turned to face the boy who had obviously been trying to get his attention for some time, judging by amused expression on his face once again. With a deep breath and a mental curse at himself, the blonde offered a polite smile and mumbled an apology.

  
“No, I’m sorry to jus’ open the door, but ah,” he paused, scratching at his cheek, “I had been knocking for a minute.”

  
“God,” Niall had to laugh, running a hand through his hair. “I’m such a twat.” The boy’s brows furrowed as he shook his head and pursed his lips, but his mouth stayed shut, for which Niall was grateful. “So, what was it you needed?” he prompted again.

  
“Oh! Uh, I was hoping I could get another glass of water..? I forgot my bottle today.”

  
Niall’s eyes widened and he couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face, jumping right up from his seat at the kitchen counter. “That I can do!” he answered. As he handed it to the still nameless boy, Niall’s eyes caught sight of the familiar water bottle sitting next to the tool box, definitely filled with water and ice as it had been the day before.

  
When he looked back at the boy’s face, he was smirking in a way that made Niall  _feel_ it from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, his brown eyes shining with mischievousness.

  
“So, I lied,” he shrugged, stepping further into Niall’s kitchen and shutting the door behind him. “I was jus’ kind of hoping I could cool off for a minute, if you don’ mind?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at the younger boy in question.

  
“Oh! Yeah, of course,” he jumped, stuttering his words as the boy grinned and helped himself to a spot at the kitchen table just inside the door. “Do you want anything else?” he asked, hating how nervous he sounded. The boy smiled and shook his head, moving to rest his chin on his open hand as he just stared at Niall.

  
“What’s ya’re name?” he asked casually as Niall slowly backed up to the counter, grabbing at his seat behind him and sliding on.

  
“Niall,” he answered after a moment’s hesitation, probably making him seem even stupider.  _What kind of arse can’t answer what is name is?_  He took a deep breath and chalked it up to the boy’s fault. With his model-esque looks and toned physique, it was enough to throw anyone off their normal behavior.

  
“I’m Zayn,” he answered unprompted and Niall wanted to crawl in a hole and die. “No school uniform today?”

  
“Yesterday was the last day of term,” he returned, glad he had been instant in his response and hadn’t stuttered out his words. It was unnerving still as he sat in at the stool and Zayn, he had learned—and the same just fit the tanned, dark featured boy perfectly didn’t it—still sat at the table with an amused smirk on his face as he stared.

  
“Are you done with sixth form then?” he asked.

  
Niall sighed. “Ah, no, one more year,” he admitted.

  
“So you’re seventeen then?” Niall nodded, “plans for Uni?” 

  
“Probably just London,” he answered. “I thought about going back home, but I don’t think I’d manage on my own,” Niall confessed.

  
“Ireland, eh? When did you move ‘ere?”

  
“A few years back.”

  
“You like it?”

  
Niall nodded, “I do. It was hard at first. London’s not so different from Dublin, though; just bigger. You’re from up north somewhere?”

  
“Bradford,” Zayn replied, his head still resting lazily on his hand. Niall watched as he grabbed the now half empty glass of water and took a long drink, almost finishing it off. Niall watched as he threw his head back, making his neck stretch and making visible the veins at the base of his throat. Clearing his suddenly dry throat, he turned away and wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. “Mario retired,” he said after a big gulp of water.

  
“What?” Niall asked, a look of confusion blanketing his face.

  
“Mario, the older guy who had been cleaning your pool for the last few years…” Zayn explained. “He was getting up there and didn’t want to be in the heat anymore. I’m taking over all his houses.” Before Niall could respond, Zayn continued. “I should get back to work,” he announced, pulling Niall from his thoughts as he stood. “Thank ya’ for the water and the air conditioning.”

  
“Of course,” Niall almost whispered. “Let me know when you’re done, so I can pay you.” Zayn nodded, reaching for the handle of the door, shooting Niall a dazzling and toothy smile before he walked back into the heat.

  
Niall watched him walk away, disappointed their conversation had been so short, but with the way Zayn affected him, it was probably best he let the boy walk away before he said or did something stupid.  _Again_. He shook his head at himself as he was halfway into the living room, ready to throw on the telly until the pool was fixed and Niall could give him his dad’s check, when he realized what the boy had said.

  
He was taking over all of the previous guy’s houses; he was taking over care of the Horan’s pool.

  
Zayn would be around all summer.

  
Niall had the urge to throw his face into his hands and cry, from happiness or embarrassment he didn’t know.  


—

  
The next week brought a drop in temperature and a hell of a lot of rain. The past three days, Zayn had both fallen asleep and woken up to the sounds of a thunder storm outside his bedroom window, mercifully open and allowing a cool breeze into his small flat, a stark contrast to the previous heat wave. The alarm clock on his bedside table told him it was just after nine in the morning, and after a large yawn he heaved himself out of bed, knowing he had just enough time for a shower and a small bite to eat. With eyes bleary and his steps clumsy from sleep, he followed the smell of breakfast into the kitchen.  
 

Louis and Harry were sat at the small kitchen table, their heads tucked together as they whispered and their free hands clasped together even as they ate. Zayn gave a small smile at the sight of the pair, and shuffled to the coffee pot, pouring himself a cup and catching their attention. “Morning,” they said in unison. Zayn snorted and gulped down some of the dark, and now only warm liquid in his mug as he looked at the pair.

  
“You two—”

  
“Sicken you, we know,” Harry cut him off, crunching into a piece of bacon.

  
“I was going to say you were adorable, but yeah, that too.” Zayn rolled his eyes, grabbing the plate of scrambled eggs and bacon they’d saved for him, mumbling a thank you as he slid into the seat across from them.

  
“Well, you seem to be in a good mood this morning,” Louis grinned, raising an eyebrow as he took in the sight of his usually grumpy-all-the-time roommate. “Care to share with the class?” he asked, putting his fork down and resting his pointed chin on his small hand. Harry looked up from his plate and nodded enthusiastically.

  
Zayn shrugged as he looked at the pair, the wistful look he always wore when it came to them once again on his face. Zayn had watched the two meet, become friends, and fall in love over the last couple of years, ever since Zayn and Louis had discovered the small bakery at which Harry worked. Harry had been sixteen, Louis eighteen. It was a moment straight out of a romantic comedy, their eyes meeting as Harry looked up from boxing a dozen cupcakes and offered to help the newest customers, caught in a staring contest before blushing and smiling shyly at Zayn’s pointed clearing of his throat.

  
Coming out of his memory, Zayn looked up to find Louis and Harry looking at him expectantly, expecting an answer of some sort, even just a frustrated brush-off. Zayn smiled sheepishly and took the last bite of his food before he got up and dropped the plate and silverware into the sink. “It’s stupid,” he admitted, turning toward them, his hands propped on the counter behind him.

  
“I’m betting it’s not,” Harry countered immediately, his green eyes bright with curiosity and kindness. Louis looked to his boyfriend and smiled before nodding his agreement to Zayn.

  
He scratched the side of his face and took a deep breath. “I started my new house rotation last week, you know?” The pair nodded. “And at one, ah, there was this guy.”

  
“A guy?” Louis repeated, a genuinely surprised look on his face. Zayn nodded, swallowing down the last of his coffee. “I didn’t know you were into…” he paused, hands waving through the air in front of him. “Wow, this is awkward.” Zayn had to hold back a laugh as Harry elbowed the older boy in the ribs.

  
“I’m not!” Zayn replied, laughing. “This kid though—and yeah, he’s only seventeen—he was… adorable.”

  
“Adorable?” Louis repeated again, raising his hands in defense at Zayn’s annoyed look. “I’m just trying to understand,” he insisted. “I thought you were going to tell me you had a thing for a hot housewife, okay?” Harry elbowed Louis again. “ _Ow_! Quit that, Curly.”

  
“I told you it was stupid,” Zayn sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

  
Harry scoffed. “And I told you it wasn’t, and look, I was right.” He ignored the older boy as he rolled his eyes and shook his head. “ _Zayn_ , we’re just surprised. You can’t blame us.” Zayn had to agree. “But, liking someone right from your first short meeting… Well, that’s something me and Lou have some experience in isn’t it?” Zayn nodded. “Don’t brush it off as stupid. You could try to get to know him.”

  
“Yeah!” Louis agreed, grinning widely. “I mean, if your moody bum finds someone  _adorable_ …”

  
“Shut up, Lou.” Zayn sighed, leaving the kitchen and heading toward the bathroom. “I’m showering; don’t use the fucking water while I’m in there.” He shut the door, pointedly ignoring their giggles.

  
It was after lunch by the time the rain stopped and the sun began to peak through the clouds, but Zayn’s clothes were already soaked through from working all morning in the storm. His tee shirt was heavy and clung to him like a second skin, his jeans darker than they had been when he put them on, and his socks and shoes uncomfortable. As he pulled up to the Horan’s house, his last stop of the day, he reminded himself to start looking for a job that didn’t involve working outdoors.

  
He pushed his way through the side gate and headed straight for the side of the pool, setting his things down, his eyes instinctively finding the kitchen window almost expecting to find Niall standing there as he had been the last week, but the boy wasn’t anywhere in sight.

  
Zayn went to work anyway, checking the filter and inspecting the part he had installed, finding it all in working order. It was when he began skimming the water that he caught the sound of a guitar, followed soon after by the sound of someone singing. Zayn smiled, his eyes landing on the open window on the top floor of the house, a head of blonde hair just visible from where he stood.

  
He listened carefully, the unmistakable Irish accent sounding sweet and light in his ears. The last thing he expected from the seemingly shy boy was for him to be a singer, and a rather good one at that. He returned to his work, letting Niall’s voice be his soundtrack. With the welcome distraction, he finished a lot sooner than he expected. With one last check on the water’s chemical levels, Zayn began to pack up his things as the sounds of the guitar stopped.

  
When he looked back up at Niall’s window, the boy was half hanging out of it, his guitar in his left hand and his face red. “Hi,” he said. “You’re, uh, done?”

  
“Yeah,” Zayn replied, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Thank you for the entertainment.”

  
“Fuck,” he cursed, pulling himself back in the window. Zayn snorted and put his things down at the side of the pool, his feet automatically pulling him toward the kitchen door. A few moments later, Niall swung it open, still red on his cheeks and his eyes looking everywhere but at Zayn’s face.

  
When Niall put a glass in Zayn’s hand, he laughed but drank down half of it before he opened his mouth. “You’re really good,” he said, frowning a bit as Niall blushed darker and ducked his head. When he looked back up at Zayn, the older boy could see the disbelief written on his face. “I’m being honest,” he added, watching as Niall’s mouth widened in a smile.

  
“Thanks,” he responded, fully looking at Zayn, his blue eyes taking in his wet appearance. “I was going to say at least you weren’t working in near hundred degree weather anymore, but…”

  
Zayn laughed, walking closer to Niall and setting his glass on the counter. “I think the rain was jus’ payback for me cursing the heat.”

  
“That sounds more like it would be my luck,” the blonde laughed, the loud boom echoing in the kitchen. Zayn grinned, watching him throw his head back, his mouth open, and his eyes crinkled shut. In was such an unreserved moment, completely unlike how the boy had acted the previous week, Zayn found himself even more intrigued than before. Between that and the guitar playing and singing, Niall had surprised him.

  
“Thanks for the water,  _again_.” Niall nodded at Zayn’s words. “I should get going,” he added, noticing the time on the large clock on the kitchen wall. He could have sat and talked to Niall all afternoon if he let himself, but his second job expected him in two hours and he desperately needed another shower.

  
“Right, of course,” the younger boy mumbled, turning and grabbing the check to pay Zayn and handing it over with a smile.

  
“Next week, then?”

  
“Next week,” Niall agreed.

  
—

  
The next week, Zayn didn’t see Niall. The house was dark and empty when Zayn pulled up, and it remained that way while he worked. It was when he was packing up to leave while trying to stamp down his disappointment that their neighbor caught him, and gave him an envelope over the fence. With a polite smile, Zayn took it and loaded his things back into the van, throwing the envelope into his bag.

  
After he dropped off the van, caught the underground to his London neighborhood, and stomped into the flat, straight past Harry and Louis in the living room—was that kid  _ever_ at his own fucking place, anyway?—he threw himself onto his bed with a sigh. He groaned when he heard the hesitant knock on his door frame, not surprised when he looked up to find the pair standing awkwardly by his open door, worried looks on both of their faces.

  
“What’s wrong, Zayn?” Harry spoke, his voice soft and his eyes concerned.

  
“It’s stupid.”

  
The younger boy scoffed, moving past Louis and sitting on the edge of the bed. “I told you to stop doing that,” he sighed, his hand wrapping around Zayn’s wrist and pulling him up into a sitting position.

  
At that, Louis plopped onto his other side, resting his chin on Zayn’s shoulder. “You know I hate when you’re upset, babe. Tell us what’s wrong.”

  
“You two are so fucking weird,” Zayn laughed as they cuddled up against him and he traced a finger along the black ink of the tattoo on his forearm.

  
“You were supposed to clean Niall’s pool today, right? Did something happen?” Harry asked.

  
“He wasn’t there,” Zayn said, wincing at how he sounded, whining over the absence of someone he barely knew and someone who was technically his employer. “The neighbor handed me the damn envelope with their check in it,” he finished, grabbing the offending piece of paper out of his bag and waving it in front of him.

  
Louis grabbed it as he frowned. Harry sighed and bumped his shoulder with Zayn’s. “He said he’d see you today, yeah?” Zayn nodded. “Maybe something came up? I’m sure next week you can find out.”

  
“I feel so dumb,” Zayn laughed, rubbing his hands over his face. “I’ve known this kid for two weeks, only a few minutes at a time. I don’t get like  _this_ ,” he insisted.

  
“It feels like there’s more than a check in here, mate,” Louis added finally, running the envelope between two fingers. Zayn’s head snapped up and his hand grabbed Louis’, ripping the paper from his hands. “ _Christ_ , Zayn.”

  
There  **was**  more than just a check in there, too. Along with it was a piece of paper, surprisingly curly and pretty handwriting in just a few lines. Zayn’s eyes skimmed over the words, unable to stop the small smile that pulled at his lips as he read.  
 

 

> _Emergency suit shopping and fitting with me mother and if that’s not torture enough, it’s for a fundraiser I have to sit through tonight. See you next week, mate!_
> 
> _Niall_

  
“I think it’s pretty safe to say that if Niall thinks to leave you a note— _cares_  enough to leave a note—he’s just as into you as you are into him, right Harry?” Louis said, as he had finished reading the note over Zayn’s shoulder. Zayn glanced at Harry to see him smiling and his eyes twinkling.

  
“I think that’s a safe assumption, Lou.”  
 

Zayn smiled as Harry and Louis stood up, grins on both their faces. “See?” Harry laughed. “You got all riled up for nothing. You’ll see him next week.”

  
“And I’m sure he’ll run into your arms, telling you how much he missed you!” Louis added, fluttering his eyelashes at Zayn.

  
“Shove off, you twat,” he groaned, but he was still laughing. “I’ve got to get ready for work.”

  
“I’ll drive you, yeah?” Harry offered. “I’m heading out in a few… get back to my place and pack. Me and Lou are going out to my mum’s house this weekend, remember?” Zayn nodded, offering the pair a small smile and accepting Harry’s offer.

  
Work was mostly routine, at least until Zayn was halfway through his shift and one of his coworkers had called in sick. The restaurant was already busy, as it always was on a Friday, but now they were short staffed,  _and_ there was a big group coming into one of their banquet rooms any minute. After reassuring his boss that he’d help with the party while still taking care of his normal tables, Zayn took the fifteen minute break that his boss insisted he take, knowing he wouldn’t get one until much, much later.

  
He was in the alley just off the parking lot smoking a cigarette when a motorcade of cars drove past him, one right after the other. He tucked against the wall, hoping to stay inconspicuous from the probable customers he’d most likely be serving when he headed back inside. He watched as a group of people headed into the banquet entrance, and his head snapped up as he caught sight of a head of messy, blonde hair among the crowd. “Niall?” he asked, without thought, watching as the boy’s own head snapped up at the sound of his name, his eyes looking everywhere except where Zayn stood. He followed the crowd into the banquet room, and Zayn cursed under his breath.

  
Stamping out his cigarette, he pulled the kitchen door open and headed back to work. It was only ten minutes before another waiter asked him for help getting drink orders from the crowd in the banquet room—the fundraiser Niall had alluded to in his note. Nodding his head and taking a deep breath, he pushed into the room to see Niall at the table just in front of him.

  
“Zayn?” he asked, eyes wide and his mouth hung open. Zayn smiled nervously, raising a hand to give the boy a small wave. Niall’s mouth stretched into a similar smile, glancing around him before he stood and closed the few foot gap that separated them. “This is too hilarious,” he laughed.

  
“Yeah,” Zayn agreed, swallowing and fiddling with his notepad. “Ah, thanks for your note.”

  
“Oh!” Niall blushed again. “I’m sorry if that was kind of weird, but uh, I didn’t want you to think… I don’t know what I was thinking, honestly.”

  
“No, it was nice. I had been looking forward to seeing you?  _That’s_ probably weird, but—”

  
“No!” Niall interrupted, blushing even deeper as Zayn raised his eyebrows. The older boy couldn’t stop the smile as he took in the sight of the blonde, once again a deep red spreading across his face. It was quickly becoming his favorite thing about the boy. He did momentarily feel bad as Niall took a deep breath and looked frustrated with himself. “I, uh, was looking forward to seeing you, too.”

  
“Niall?” a woman asked, coming up alongside of the two boys. Zayn instinctively took a step back, realizing how close they’d been standing.

  
“Mum, hi! I was just giving my drink order.” She nodded. “Why don’t you give him yours, too?”

  
Zayn smiled at Mrs. Horan, taking her order happily before she flitted to the entrance where more people had shown up. Zayn grinned at Niall. “And for you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. Niall mumbled that he’d have a Coke. “Hey, you alright?”

  
“Yeah, fine,” Niall laughed a bit. “Just weird, having you take my order I guess?”

  
“It’s my job. I’m at your service,” Zayn smiled, giving Niall a wink that made the boy turn red all over again.   


—

  
It took less than ten minutes after his arrival for Liam to figure out Niall was greatly distracted. As they stood with their parents and some of their parents’ work acquaintances, the blonde was paying little attention to the conversation going on around him, and his eyes kept glancing toward the kitchen door as if waiting for something.

  
It was the third time Liam had caught Niall watching the door that Zayn pushed through, a tray of drinks propped onto a hand. He gave Niall a grin and shot him a wink as he walked toward a table in the back, causing the boy’s cheeks to flush red like Liam had never seen before. With a questioning look toward the younger boy, he politely excused the two of them from the group, pulling his friend into a quiet corner.

  
Niall blushed harder, opening his mouth to protest whatever it was Liam thought was going on, but his words were cut short when Zayn came to a stop next to the pair. “A refill, boys?” he prompted, his fingers already wrapping around the empty glass in Niall’s hand, their fingers touching and Zayn’s cuff pushing up to expose a small strip of inked skin. Niall nodded shortly, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he let go of his glass. Liam watched with raised eyebrows and offered his own glass, watching Niall as  _he_ watched Zayn until the boy was in the kitchen and out of sight.

  
“Something you want to tell me, mate?” Niall shuffled his feet and fingered the cufflinks on his wrists as he worked out what to say. Liam sighed and bumped his shoulder into the younger boy’s. “You can tell me anything, Nialler,” he said quietly, the nickname familiar to Niall’s ears.

  
It was after Zayn had come back with their drinks and then left with a promise to see Niall before he went home that the boy finally opened up to his friend. Liam was quiet and patient, his brown eyes kind and understanding as he listened. He’d known about Niall’s sexuality almost as long as he’d known him, but it was a little surprising to hear about him being so into someone, let alone someone he just met. It was even more surprising to see him acting shy around Zayn, as Liam had only ever known him as loud and outgoing.

  
“I keep embarrassing myself in front of him, Li,” Niall laughed. “It’s like I forget how to talk, and I stare too much, and I’m constantly red—”

  
“Yeah, well, he can’t keep his eyes off of you,” Liam interrupted, nodding his head toward the other end of the room, where Zayn was listening to the cute, young secretary that worked in law offices. Niall would have been unnerved at the sight, but Zayn was indeed looking at Niall over her shoulder, and the small smile on the waiter’s face was intended for him and not for the girl who was talking his ear off.

  
“Oh my god, Liam,” Niall huffed out a laugh, putting his head in his hands and rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palms. Liam laughed, too, putting a reassuring hand on his friend’s back as their parents sat down and the food began to arrive.

  
It was obvious to Liam that Niall liked Zayn more than he had liked any other guy. In fact, Liam couldn’t even remember a time Niall had ever had fancied  _anyone_. It had prompted many more than one sarcastic comment over the last few years whether the boy was even doing the whole gay thing _right_. Every single one of those conversations had ended with wrestling match filled with giggles (which Liam always won) followed by Niall’s reassurance that he didn’t see the point in fawning over someone for the sake of it.

  
It was that knowledge that had Liam a bit cautious. While he didn’t know Zayn enough to make a proper judgment, the guy did seem decent enough, and if the way he immediately sought out Niall whenever he entered the banquet room was any indication, the feelings were more than mutual. He caught Zayn’s eyes once himself, and Liam smiled warm and friendly, and when Zayn returned it and blushed a bit on his own cheeks, well, Liam was hopeful that things would work out.

  
Time was passed with awkward conversation with businessmen and women neither Liam nor Niall knew, but Liam at least knew how to keep a conversation going. He shot Niall a look as the boy just stopped trying and shoved a dinner roll in his mouth, a smile pulling at his lips. “You’re disgusting, and  _Zayn_ can see you!”

  
Niall’s head snapped up, his eyes finding Zayn a few tables away. He let out an indistinguishable noise Liam knew was sure to be a curse and spit out the roll out into his napkin before waving. “Niall!” his mother scolded, shaking her head and narrowing her eyes. “You’ve been acting odd all evening,” she continued. Liam snorted and sat back in his chair. “Is everything okay?” she asked finally, her eyes changing from annoyance to concern.

  
After a long drink of water, Niall nodded and said, “Yeah I’m fine. Sorry, I’m just bored.”

  
“Only a little longer, dear, I promise.”  
 

—

  
Later, with the setting sun came a cool breeze that broke through the warm and humid air. All but one of Zayn’s tables had finished and left, and the fundraiser was winding to a close, as well. He took a drag from his cigarette as he leaned his head against the brick wall of the restaurant, his eyes closing and his lips parting to let the smoke trickle from his mouth. He heard the sound of shoes hitting concrete and then a sharp intake of breath, and he smiled. He opened his eyes slowly and turned his head toward the sidewalk, Niall’s shy smile bright and clearly visible despite the darkness of the alley.

  
“Hi,” Zayn breathed out, a hand motioning for the boy to join him. With his smile widening and his hands in his trouser pockets, Niall quickly made his way to where Zayn stood, careful to keep some space between them. Raising an eyebrow as he stopped a couple feet from Zayn and leaned against the wall with one shoulder, Zayn pushed himself off of the brick and mimicked Niall’s position, moving closer and moving to face him.

  
“You’re leaving soon, I take it?” he asked, turning his head to let out the rest of the smoke from his mouth, mindful of keeping it from blowing in Niall’s face. “It was nice seeing you,” he said, dropping the butt to the ground and stamping it out with the toe of his shoe. “I wish we could have talked more, but—”

  
“You do?” Niall asked, halting Zayn’s words and causing the older boy to raise his eyebrows in surprise. “I mean, ah shit, me too.”

  
Zayn breathed a laugh, again moving forward until his body was inches from Niall. “You’ve got to stop,” he breathed out, running the lapel of the boy’s suit jacket between a forefinger and thumb.

  
Niall swallowed audibly. “Stop what?” he asked, his voice quiet and breathy.

  
“You make me like you, you make me think about you all the time, you make me disappointed when I don’t see your blushing face when I come to clean your pool, and mostly you make me really want to kiss you,” he said, shrugging a shoulder as if his words were the most casual thing in the world. Niall froze in front of him, his blue eyes wide and his pretty mouth hung open. Zayn smiled, dropping his hand from Niall’s jacket, his fingers moving to skim against the back of Niall’s hand. 

  
Niall surprised him again by turning his hand and joining their fingers, their hands hanging between their bodies. There was a hesitant moment where their eyes met and they just stared, but Zayn didn’t miss the slight nod of Niall’s head, and he took it as permission. Leaning forward, he closed the gap between them and pressed his lips gently against Niall’s. Niall pressed back with certainty, his free hand landing on the place where shoulder met neck while Zayn’s closed around Niall’s thin hip, pulling him closer until their bodies were pressed flush.

  
The kiss was sweet and all at once everything Zayn had expected and yet nothing he did. It was after they moved apart that he remembered it was his first time kissing a boy. As he took in the sight of Niall, cheeks once again rosy with color, his eyes bright and his smile shy and hesitant, he couldn’t even compare either Niall or the kiss to any kisses or kissing partners he’d had in the past. With a smile of his own, he ducked his head and again captured the boy’s lips.

  
It was a few minutes filled with more kisses later that a surprised  _oh_ from Liam broke them apart. Zayn laughed and pressed his forehead to Niall’s as the younger boy cursed and bit down on his bottom lip. “I’m sorry,” Niall said, dropping his hand from Zayn’s neck to his wrist, his fingers pushing up the sleeve and his eyes taking in the black ink on his wrist. “I have to go,” he continued, breaking out of his trance and pushing his fingers into his pocket. “Please tell me I can have your number.”

  
Zayn grinned, nodding his head and digging his hand into an apron pocket, quickly exchanging mobiles so they could enter their numbers. “When can I call you?” he asked, his eyes locked on the Niall’s face, absently taking in the sight of the boy’s freckles and wondering if he could count them all. He’d probably need a lot of time, he mused happily.

  
“I don’t know,” Niall began, looking up as he entered his name into Zayn’s contacts. “Next week? Monday? Tomorrow? Twenty minutes from now?” Zayn laughed, grabbing his mobile and pushing Niall’s back into his trouser pocket.

  
“All of those sound good to me,” he admitted, pulling Niall in by the back of his neck to place a too short kiss on the boy’s lips. “If you’re serious, I am free tomorrow, and I hear Saturday night is a pretty good night for a date.” Niall’s grin was answer enough.

  
He watched the boy leave the alley, joining up with Liam who had taken to watching the road while he waited. If Zayn’s grin got wider when he heard Liam gush about Niall getting his first kiss, well, no one was around to see it. 

  
—

  
Harry and Louis wore identical looks of astonishment, admiration, and excitement when Zayn announced he had a date that night. They sat on the edge of Zayn’s bed, much like they had the previous day, and watched as he sifted through his closet for an outfit to wear. Louis sighed and stood, taking mercy on his best friend and shoving him to sit next to Harry.

  
“The worst thing you can do is over think it, Zayn.” Zayn laughed and motioned for Louis to go right ahead. “Niall already likes you, and what, the first time he saw you were soaked in sweat and dressed like a bum, I’m guessing?” Zayn nodded and muttered  _twat_ underneath his breath, which Louis ignored. He turned and pulled out a pair of black jeans, listening to Harry’s excited suggestion, and pulled out a black tee shirt to go with it.

  
Zayn stood and grabbed the clothes from Louis’ hands before pushing the pair out of his room. He quickly dressed, shoved his phone and wallet into his back pockets, and left his room as well. Harry threw his car keys from where he and Louis had reclaimed their spots on the couch, slices of pizza in their hands. With waves and wide smiles, Zayn left them and made his way out of the city and to Niall’s posh neighborhood.

  
The boy was out of his front door seconds after Zayn put the car in park, practically running through the front garden and to the curb. He let out a deep breath as he shut the passenger side door after himself, turning his body to face Zayn. Without a second thought, he pushed into the older boy’s space and pressed a kiss to his lips. He seemed to melt into it, his body pressing against Zayn’s over the center console, and as best as he could Zayn pulled him over and into himself.

  
When Niall pulled back, he smiled sheepishly and apologized, but Zayn just grinned, putting the car in drive and grabbing Niall’s hand in his before pulling off the curb and heading toward the restaurant he had picked for them. Niall fiddled with the radio and kept the conversation going the whole ride back into the city. Zayn couldn’t wipe the smile off of his face as he watched Niall leave his previous shy demeanor behind, opening up and being his usual self, Zayn would guess.

  
He had been able to watch Niall as he interacted with Liam and his parents the night before, and it was nothing like the boy he had seen the previous two weeks. It made Zayn want to get to know him more than ever as the boy laughed loudly, stuffed his face, and squirmed in his seat; it was as if he had so much excess energy that he needed to move constantly to burn it off. It was the bouncing of Niall’s knee as they drove to the restaurant that confirmed Zayn’s suspicion.

  
“What?” Niall asked, suddenly halting his singing along to the radio as he noticed Zayn’s stare while they sat at a red light.

  
“Nothing,” Zayn laughed, biting at a fingernail, his left hand still holding onto Niall’s and resting in the boy’s lap. “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” Niall shook his head, looking confused, and Zayn rolled his eyes as the light turned green. “It’s nothing  _bad_ ,” he insisted. “It’s the opposite, really. I had you pegged as this shy, easily embarrassed, and innocent guy, and I’m finding out that you’re  **definitely** not shy or easily embarrassed—” Niall scoffed. “Well, you  _were_ but as you get to know me, I’m guessing that will stop, huh?”

  
At that, Niall laughed and nodded his head. “I was expecting an sweaty, old guy and I got…” he flailed his hand, “fucking  _you_!!” Zayn raised an eyebrow and Niall flushed. “I should just stop talking.”

  
“Please don’t,” Zayn said, pulling into the parking lot. “And please never stop blushing either,” he added, dragging his finger over Niall’s still pink cheek. As he watched Niall bite his lip again, he added a final thought. “Jury’s still out on you being innocent, though.” With a wink and a grin of victory at Niall’s red cheeks, Zayn hopped out of the car and went to Niall’s side to retrieve him.

  
Dinner was spent with Niall gushing over the  _‘best fucking burgers’_ he had ever had and getting to know each other after two weeks of making eyes at each other. Zayn finally had time to talk to Niall, and he relished hearing every word out of the Irish boy’s mouth. He talked about school, about his parents, about his friendship with Liam, and about his life in Ireland he’d left behind. He’d had a pretty normal childhood between his parents busy at their law firms—both the one they worked at in Dublin and the one they opened in London with Liam’s father. He had an older brother who was still in Ireland and already done with college, running a small restaurant with his longtime girlfriend.

  
It was the kind of life Zayn remembered having before his dad passed away when he was thirteen and his mother had been left with him and his three sisters to take care of. Niall listened with an understanding look rather than the pitying one he was so used to seeing when he talked about his dad and his hard upbringing.

  
Maybe they were only two weeks into knowing each other, but when Niall bumped his knee against Zayn’s under the table and offered him a kind smile when the boy looked up from his food at the touch, Zayn felt that maybe Niall was someone he could really be himself with and someone he could really _have_ something with, too.  


—

  
They lasted three days. It was the sunny and warm Tuesday following their weekend unexpectedly spent together when Niall stopped glaring at his mobile and willing it to ring, and instead picked it up and called Zayn himself. He couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face when the other boy picked up on the first ring, his voice hopeful and breathless as if he’d been doing the same thing Niall had just been. Zayn’s voice had also given away the smile on his face as he bypassed any greeting and asked if he could come over, a question at which Niall breathed a sigh of relief and readily agreed. At least now he was pretty sure he wasn’t the only one addicted to the other boy’s company.

  
Zayn was standing on his doorstep twenty minutes later, a bag of takeout in hand. Niall grinned and grabbed at his free hand, pulling the boy into the house and into a kiss. Zayn made a surprised but pleased noise against Niall’s mouth, pushing until they were against the foyer wall, hands clasped tight. Greetings were breathed into open mouths, the food temporarily forgotten in favor of kisses.

  
The warm days of June had bled into the hot days of July without either noticing. Zayn spent almost all of his free time trying to make Niall’s mansion seem a little less empty, a vulnerable thought the boy had let slip out during a late night phone conversation. Zayn had felt his chest tighten at the words, and he was quick to promise to himself that he’d make Niall forget about his mostly solitary existence. If he could base his success on Niall’s smiles and laughter alone, Zayn had more than kept his promise.

  
It was the second weekend in July when Harry and Louis had loudly congratulated Zayn and Niall one their  _‘one month’_ as Zayn readied himself for work at the restaurant with Niall on speakerphone. His fast paced Irish brogue had stopped abruptly as Zayn froze, his dress shirt half buttoned. A few seconds of silence passed before Niall’s laughter filled the dead air, and Zayn’s chuckle was quick to follow.

  
“Is it really our  _anniversary_?” Niall teased, his voice slightly distant as if he’d turned his head. Zayn listened as he  _‘hmm’d’_ and shuffled pieces of paper on his end. “I guess it is,” he added. “The fundraiser was a mont’ ago, now.”

  
Zayn grinned, slipping into his dress shoes. Before he could respond, Harry and Louis shoved through his doorway, picked up his mobile from his bed, and started talking at Niall at the same time. Zayn caught only pieces of what they were saying, and Niall’s response to them, as he finished dressing and grabbed his apron. 

  
“We’ll see you tomorrow, then!” Harry practically squeaked, Louis’ body quaking with excitement at his side. They grinned and handed Zayn back his mobile, taking off without another word.

  
“What did I miss?” he asked, getting Niall’s laughter in response.

  
“You’re all spending the weekend at mine, apparently,” he finally answered.

  
“I’m sorry if they just invited themselves—”

  
“Zayn, it’s totally okay! I think it’s a great idea,” he admitted. “Mine and Liam’s parents are out of town, and I… it would be nice to have you, if you want.”

  
Zayn felt his chest tighten again at his explanation, his promise to never let Niall feel lonely ever again coming to the forefront of his mind. “Yeah, Ni. I’d love to. Me and the boys will be over around lunch time tomorrow then?” The resounding laugh and excitement from the other end of the phone sent a different kind of feeling through his chest, one that wasn’t heartbreak, and was also enough to keep Zayn in a good mood through his entire shift that night.

  
—

  
Liam’s smile was pleased and fond as he let Zayn, Louis, and Harry into Niall’s house. He led the trio into the kitchen where Zayn placed their overnight bags on one of the chairs while the other three boys set to putting the groceries they’d brought onto the counter or in the refrigerator. Zayn smiled, leaning against the island counter, as he watched the boys who’d never met act like old friends. He supposed Niall had relayed Zayn’s stories of Harry and Louis to Liam as Zayn had done about his boyfriend’s friend to the pair. Liam caught Zayn’s gaze and pointed outside onto the patio. Zayn turned to see Niall standing in front of the grill, seemingly preparing it for use. Without hesitation, Zayn slipped out the back door and to where Niall stood, wrapping his arms around the boy’s thin waist from behind.

  
Niall jumped, but leaned into the touch when he realized who it was. His eyes shined in happiness and his grin was wide, braced teeth on full display as he turned and wrapped his own arms around Zayn. “’M glad you’re here,” he confessed, tucking his face into Zayn’s neck.

  
“I’m glad I’m here, too, Ni; should be a fun weekend, right?” At the answering nod, Zayn tilted his head and pressed a soft kiss to Niall’s lips. With another grin flashed toward Zayn and a squeeze of his hand before he let go, Niall turned back around to finish spreading the coals along the base of the grill. With a final swipe, he declared the job all done and the grill ready to use.

  
Pulling him back into the kitchen, Zayn couldn’t say he was surprised when Niall found himself wrapped up in both Harry and Louis’ arms as they exclaimed how excited they were to finally meet him. Liam stood against the kitchen counter with an amused look on his face and his hair slightly mussed, telling Zayn he’d already been put through the same treatment. “I told you they were huggers,” Zayn laughed, pulling Niall—who looked flustered and disheveled—from their arms and to his side, sending all five boys into laughter.

  
Niall stayed tucked close against Zayn’s side as the boys sat around the patio table. Harry stood at the grill flipping burgers and cooking up veggies while Louis boasted of his boyfriend’s cooking skills. While the others knew enough to get themselves fed, Harry talked about how much he’d always loved to cook and bake, admitting that he’d brought a few boxes of sweets he’d made during his shift at the bakery the day before.

  
“I might just have to keep you around, Harry!” Niall laughed, gulping down a swig of the beer Louis had been in charge of bringing. Beside him, Zayn scoffed and unwrapped his arm from Niall’s shoulder, causing the boy to protest and cuddle back into him despite the heat.

  
Zayn never would have guessed how easy this all had been. Upon meeting Niall, Zayn’s interest in him had been almost outweighed by his lack of knowing how to go about it. As he had confessed to Harry and Louis just a month before, he’d never even been attracted to a guy, but he had instantly known he felt an interest in Niall that went well beyond the boy’s cuteness.

  
He could guess it helped that Niall hadn’t ever done anything like this before either, and as Liam had confessed one afternoon as his friend had snuck into the house, Niall didn’t do casual crushes. The information had sent both a feeling of excitement and nervousness through Zayn.

  
Along with his promise to keep Niall smiling and laughing was a promise to himself to do what felt right, and spending nearly every day with Niall was simply that. He knew, just a month in, that whatever he had going on with Niall meant more than any relationship that Zayn had thought he’d had with previous girlfriends. Both of them were making it up as they went along, honest and upfront about how much they liked the other, and practically attached at the hip, and because of that, Zayn could find absolutely no reason to be worried about where they were, what they meant, or where they were going. They’d figure it out.

  
Leaning forward, Zayn wrapped an arm around Niall’s middle, dragging him backwards along the cushioned bench where they sat. With his chin resting on Niall’s shoulder, Zayn pressed a kiss to Niall’s neck, damp with sweat from being out in the heat. The boy’s cheeks flared pink in that way Zayn loved so much at the intimate move in front of their friends, but a quick glance at them told Niall they weren’t even paying attention.

  
He smiled, turning to face Zayn, as he asked, “what was that for?”

  
“Just because,” Zayn shrugged, picking up his fork and getting back to his food, his arm still held tightly against Niall’s waist.

  
After lunch, the boys had taken refuge from the heat by setting themselves up in the living room. With full bellies and skin tinted slightly pink (save for Louis who once again boasted, not about his boyfriend’s cooking skills, but about his tan skin that only  _‘bronzed’_ in the sun) the quintet set to watching movies—and a couple short hours later—stuffing their faces with the junk food they’d stocked up on, while stories and laughs passed between them with ease.

  
As time passed watching the first three  _Harry Potter_ movies, the evening wore on, the sun began to set, and the temperature dropped a few degrees. With rested bodies, the boys were itching to get into the pool. They quickly changed in guest rooms and bathrooms and reconvened out on the patio, Liam, Harry, and Louis diving in without abandon and nearly soaking Niall and Zayn with their splashes.

  
With minimal teasing about his lack of swimming skills, Zayn waded into the shallow end with Niall close behind. The water was cool against his warmed skin and Niall’s arms were comforting around his waist. Hours were spent lazing in the water, both calm moments and ones filled with laughter and goofing off. Zayn and Niall had both climbed their way onto a small, inflatable raft and floated along the pool, occasionally bumping into the side and retreating in the opposite direction. They could have spent hours out there and on the raft, but Harry had grown bored and with Louis’ encouragement and help, they’d tipped the raft over, leaving both Zayn and Niall sputtering and splashing at them in protest.

  
When the sky was finally dark and the boys were in dry clothes, they curled up around the fire pit toward the back of the yard. With yet more beers and snacks passed around, the boys laughed and talked and hung out as if they’d known each other for years, despite most of them having just met. During a lull in conversation, Zayn excused himself and scurried into the house, coming back a few minutes later with Niall’s guitar in his hand.

  
The Irish boy blushed as the rest of the group immediately began calling for him to play something, and he wanted to protest but Zayn’s hopeful smile was too much to turn down. With a shaky, embarrassed breath, he began to play. It was after only the first couple of lines that Harry joined in, giving Niall a dimpled grin, and before he knew it, all five of them were singing the song together.

  
It was almost two AM when the boys put out the fire and trudged into the house. Liam, Harry, and Louis stopped on the second floor, shuffling into the two guest rooms they’d claimed with tired and mumbled  _‘good night’_ s. Zayn and Niall continued to the third floor and into Niall’s bedroom in a similar fashion. They fell onto the bed, barely brushing lips, and whispering a good night into the darkness before they fell asleep.

  
—

  
With hangovers that were luckily mild and manageable, all five boys slept almost through lunch the next day. Liam had been the first up, and the one who had drunk the least. He took it upon himself to fix up some sandwiches and a pot of coffee to help pounding heads. Two by two, the remaining boys shuffled in, Harry and Louis about a half an hour after Zayn and Niall.

  
The rest of the day was spent similarly to the previous, the boys hiding out in the air conditioning until the evening when they returned to the pool and played a particularly rousing game of volleyball after Niall had strung up the net that had Liam rotating teams every five minutes to make it fair. Zayn and Niall had won, which Louis claimed didn’t count because he and Harry had been stuck in the deep end the entire time, on account of Zayn not being able to swim. Liam finally called it a draw after they taken to dunking each other.

  
The evening wound down much earlier than the night before, Harry and Louis ducking out just after eight with excuses of morning shifts at their jobs. Liam followed them only a short while later after a big yawn.

  
Niall cuddled into Zayn’s chest with a contented sigh. “This was fun,” he mumbled, pulling the hood of his jumper up as the unexpectedly cool breeze picked up with a particularly strong gust. “Are you leaving too?” he asked, blue eyes illuminated by the orange light of the fire.

  
“Only if you want me to,” Zayn answered.

  
“No work tomorrow?” Niall asked, unable to stop the smile when Zayn shook his head. He pulled his bottom lip into his mouth and settled back against the older boy’s chest. “I want you to stay.”

  
“Then I’ll stay,” he whispered back, pressing a kiss to Niall’s forehead. “Are you ready to go in?” Niall nodded, sliding up and off of Zayn and toward the fire, quickly dousing it with the bucket of water they’d left aside. With a smile and Zayn’s hand wrapped tightly around his, they locked up the house and headed up to his bedroom, luckily more awake and entirely sober, unlike the night before.

  
Zayn sat on the edge of Niall’s bed as he stood in front of him, an unsure look on his face. The previous night had left them tired, drunk, and far from alone, but now they were clear-headed, on their own, and unsure. Zayn shook his head and held a hand out, mumbling a quiet  _‘c’mere’_ that Niall immediately obeyed until he was standing between his legs. Putting a hand around his neck, Zayn pulled him down and into a kiss.

  
As Zayn leaned back, Niall had no choice but to climb onto the bed and on top of Zayn. It was the first time they’d been in such a position, and there was no doubt it sent a thrill throughout both boys, both of whom had been wanting something,  _anything_ for quite some time, but were unsure of how to go about it.

  
When Niall was fully pressed against Zayn’s chest, the older boy pulled his lips away and took a deep breath. He searched Niall’s eyes for an answer as he whispered, “tell me to stop.”

   
“I don’t want you to,” Niall answered, his voice quiet but sure. Zayn nodded and with another deep, calming breath, he pressed his lips up and against Niall’s. With a leg hooked around his side, it was easy to flip them until Zayn was on top, sitting atop a narrow waist with warm fingers pressing into his skin through his thin tee shirt. “Never want you to stop,” Niall added, his voice deep and his accent thick, and that was all Zayn needed.

  
His hands moved with purpose across Niall’s skin, lifting the jumper easily and dropping it to the floor. His lips pressed softly against exposed neck, shoulders, and chest, reveling in the sharp breaths the boy beneath him took in and let out with every new touch. Bare chests touched as Zayn leaned down for another kiss, this one more intimate than any others, given their position. When Niall let out a choked off moan as Zayn surged forward to deepen the kiss and cloth covered hard-ons brushed against one another, their movements got frantic and needy as they shed clothes and moved up the bed.

  
“Zayn, please, I just—” Niall’s voice cut off when a spit-slicked hand wrapped around his length and began moving at a torturously slow place. He held still, his head falling against Zayn’s chest as he moved with him, but he knew he needed it harder and faster and  _now_. “Fuck, Zayn,  _please_ ,” he whispered, bucking his hips up and pressing himself further into Zayn’s grip as his hands fell to the older boy’s shoulders, his nails digging into skin hard enough to earn him a grimace, but Zayn’s movements never stopped.

  
With a nod, Zayn tightened his previously loose grip and sped up his motions, shuddering at the noise it earned him. Without another thought, he pressed his own length into his hand, pushing up to meet Niall’s thrusts as he got them off together. Niall’s mouth never stopped, a jumble of curses falling past his lips the closer he got to the edge. Zayn was right with him, his lack of recent action and the sight of Niall writhing and coming undone next to him combining to get him off harder and faster than in a long time.

  
When Niall’s eyes shut, Zayn took used his free hand to take the boy’s chin in hand. “No,” he whispered. “Look at me, please,” he urged, and Niall listened, opening up his eyes again to meet Zayn’s gaze. With a final shudder, Niall came and spilled onto Zayn’s hand and crotch. Zayn’s grip didn’t let up as he continued to stroke at them, and a few pulls later, he followed and caught Niall as he slumped against him, his breath heavy and his chest, neck, and face flushed.

  
He let himself enjoy the moment, taking in the pretty sight of the boy next to him as he regained his breathing and his skin calmed to its normal pale color. He didn’t expect the lazy kiss Niall initiated, but he was a pleased sort of surprised as they came down from their climax together, their lips brushing against each other’s in open-mouthed kisses laced with swipes of tongue, their minds blank save for thoughts of each other and the rest of the summer to come.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my [tumblr](http://alyawhi.tumblr.com).


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